


teal mittens

by ienablu



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, obscure crossover pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu/pseuds/ienablu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While preparing to make her case for starting a Mark-III Restoration program, Mako heads to the Vladivostok Shatterdome to consult with the lead engineer there, Dr. Fitz. Somehow she spends more time with Dr. Fitz’s colleague, Dr. Simmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	teal mittens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somethingsomething](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingsomething/gifts).



> To Sarah: You are a menace, but you are my favorite menace. Sorry this is a few weeks late, it got a tiiiiiny bit longer than anticipated.
> 
> (Also, happy birthday to Tiana.)
> 
> Full notes [here](http://hayes-district.dreamwidth.org/5325.html).

It is negative four degrees in Vladivostok when Mako steps out of the helicopter. The wind is still, and there is no snow falling, and Mako is grateful for the slight reprieve that comes from that. She has been here for the wind and snow, and did not care for the full-body _cold_.

Deputy Marshal Illyana Sharova greets her with a wave. She's been running the Vladivostok Shatterdome as long as it's been running, and the sight of her always makes Mako stand up a bit straighter.

Mako bows to her slightly. "Deputy Marshal," she greets.

"Cadet Mori."

Mako tells herself that is not insulted.

"It is good to see you," Sharova adds, and her expression does not seem as severe. "I am glad to have you with us."

"I thank you for allowing me this opportunity."

Sharova turns and starts back towards the Shatterdome, and Mako falls into step behind her. "Marshal Pentecost didn't seem too fond of the idea, but you made your case. It will be good to have you on, I look forward to seeing your work with Dr. Fitz."

It's not warmer within stepping into the Shatterdome, as Mako remembers. It takes a few hallways for the heat to stop being leached out into the cold. It's not until they're inside the elevators and slowly traveling down that Mako feels comfortable unzipping her thick, winter jacket, and pulling off her thick, winter gloves. 

Outside the elevator, and a woman is waiting for them. Mako has seen her around the Shatterdome. Tall, lithe, and dark-haired, she stands as a foil against Sharova, though they share a piercing gaze.

"Officer Yakimova," Sharova greets, as she steps out of the elevator. "This is Cadet Mori, the one I told you about."

"The one studying with FitzSimmons?" she asks.

Mako frowns, and repeats, "Fitzsimmons?"

"Dr. Fitz and Dr. Simmons were brought in together,” Yakimova explains. “They are near inseparable, and it follows that it's easier to refer to them with the same name."

Mako is one quarter away from graduating from the Jaeger Academy. Commencement is on a Saturday morning, which Mako will not be able to attend, due to an early Monday morning meeting in Sydney. She has been petitioning for a chance to make her proposal to the Committee, though Marshal Pentecost has not been a fan of the idea of jaeger restoration. Her approval came only at the cancellation of another petition. Mako had been working on the proposal regardless, and now that she has her chance, she is looking to perfect it.

Visiting Dr. Leo Fitz had been an obvious next step to take. In charge of the Cherno Alpha recalibration program. With Cherno Alpha as the last standing Mark-I, the program has been kept on a strict need-to-know basis, and only since scheduling her proposal has the Marshal seen her need-to-know. It has resulted in Mako doing what research she could on Dr. Fitz in the past few days.

None of it included a Dr. Simmons.

“Marshal, a word?” Yakimova asks.

“I had planned to show Cadet Mori to Fitzsimmons and escort her to her quarters. Can it wait?”

Yakimova stares at Mako for a long moment, before addressing Sharova in rapid-fire Russian. A series of hushed words are exchanged, before Sharova frowns and Yakimova nods.

Sharova turns back to Mako once more. "I apologize, Cadet Mori, but there is an urgent matter I must address. You have visited us here before, I ask your pardon if I leave you here with Dr. Fitz and Dr. Simmons."

Mako nods. "You must do the work you must do."

"Thank you." A sharp turn, and then Sharova is opening a door to a lab. The sound of arguing greets them. Male and female, him with a Scottish accent, her with a British accent. "They are in here. Fitz, Simmons," Sharova says, voice raising.

The arguing stops, and two step out from behind a chalkboard. Mako recognizes Dr. Fitz from her research – he is dressed casually, in a maroon jumper with a white dress shirt under it. Mako presumes his companion – in a pristine white lab coat, long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail – is Dr. Simmons  "Ah, hello, Marshal," she greets.

"Simmons, this is the scientist I told you about, the one to be working with Fitz. I have matters to attend to, but I hope you will help refamiliarize her with the Shatterdome, and field any questions she may have."

"Of course!" Simmons says, a wide smile on her face.

Sharova nods at Simmons, then at Mako, before she turns on her heel and precedes Yakimova out of the lab.

"That's Fitz. Engineering, worked under Dr. Gottlieb Sr. for a few months after the start of the jaeger program. Don't call him a doctor, he never responds to it."

"Neither of us do. And this is Simmons," he says, nodding at the girl. "Xenobiology, and biochem. This is her lab."

"Unofficially," Simmons adds.

Fitz snorts. "Because you have to share it will all the other xenobiologists who were jumping at the chance to study kaiju carcasses in the arctic.”

"This isn't the arctic, we're still twenty degrees south of the Arctic Circle."

"Well it certainly doesn't feel like it."

Simmons frowns at Fitz, but then turns back to Mako. She smiles again. "You're Mako Mori, right?"

Mako nods. "It is very nice to meet you both," she says, with a slight bow.

"It's excellent to finally meet you," Simmons replies. "We've read your file. Fitz was quite impressed, and I will be the first to tell you that he does not impress easily."

"It's good work," Fitz says. He turns back to the chalkboard, and starts making some notes on it. "Not entirely accurate, all the way through, there was–"

"An issue or two that Fitz found," Simmons continues, raising her voice above his, "but I am under the impression you are going to be here in Vladivostok for some time?"

“Only until the seventeenth. I need to return to the Academy for my final quarter.”

“Congratulations! I loved my last quarter at the Academy, personally. But that puts you with us for the next ten days, then?”

Mako nods.

"Brilliant! We can talk about it later. I don't know if you flew in from Kodiak or elsewhere, but it's a long flight up here no matter what, and you probably want to get some sleep. Right?"

Mako knows a high amount of stamina is needed to be a jaeger pilot. She has been training herself, trying to build up her stamina, and if needed, she knows she could stay up longer, do whatever was needed. But she is tired, and it would be senseless to deny herself rest when she could take it. She nods again.

"Do you need either of us to show you around?"

"I can show you to the caf, if you’re hungry," Fitz says.

"I'm not hungry," Mako replies. "Thank you, though."

Simmons rolls her eyes. "Don't thank him, he's been begging to go down to the caf for nearly an hour now. His code is compiling, and he's bored, even though some of us still have work to do."

“It’s warmer in the caf,” Fitz says. “At least two degrees on average.”

A quiet ding sounds from one of the computers.

“Oh, good,” Simmons says. “The spectrophotometer has finished calibrating. See, we're trying to better understand the genetic make-up of kaiju, and we’re not certain what amino acids are in their DNA, but finding out the protein concentrations might give us a clue. Of course, we can't use Brillantindocyanin  G-250 or R-250 dye, given the bluer nature of kaiju, but I have been experimenting to create another triphenylmethane that will act just the same. Only trouble is that given our lack of knowledge about how means that experiments need to be run several times over to find which results are outliers, and the calibration to zero out the spectrophotometer need to be done every dozen experiments to maintain the accuracy of the results.”

“I will show myself out.”

The computer dings again, and Simmons makes her way over towards it. “No, I hadn’t meant to imply – although I suppose if you are tired, you should probably get to your quarters. Sorry I cannot show you out myself, but it was lovely meeting you!” Simmons calls. She looks up from her work, briefly, to give her a bright smile, before turning and asking Fitz to fetch her some cuvettes.

Mako's room is halfway across the Shatterdome. She nearly walks down the wrong hallway once or twice (first, wanting to turn left for her Lima quarters, later to continue forward towards her Hong Kong quarters) before she arrives at her longstanding Vladivostok quarters.

They are cold, and impersonal, as they always are. Mako’s battered suitcase sits at the foot of her bunk. She pulls it up onto the lower bunk, and unzips the top. She pulls out the picture of her and Sensei lying on top, and sets it on her desk. There are a few more items folded amongst her clothing – a toy figurine from Tendo, Tamsin’s annotated copy of primary-level novel – and as always, Mako wishes she had thought to bring a few more personal effects. She sets what she did bring on the desk.

It is only five in the evening, but Mako is exhausted. She dresses down to her undershirt, and changes into her standard-issue, black cotton, PPDC-emblazoned pajama bottoms. The sheets are freezing when she slides into bed, but it’s only minutes until they warm up, and minutes after that for her to fall asleep.

 

\-  -

 

Mako wakes up to a knock at the door.

She rolls over, and blearily checks the time. 12:01. She rubs at the grit in her eyes. Nineteen hours of uninterrupted sleep, give or take. She feels good. Still sleepy – as she’s only made a dent into making up the sleep she lost at the end of the quarter – but refreshed, well-rested.

Still, she doesn’t think she’s ready for human interaction just yet. Especially when she doesn’t know who’s on the other side of the door. The most likely candidate is Deputy Marshal Sharova – being Marshal Pentecost’s daughter, she is treated with extra formality at most Shatterdomes, and that has always translated to special attention by the Shatterdome’s Deputy Marshal. However, Deputy Marshal Sharova has never been overly inclined towards such behavior. As well, Sharova is hardly the type of woman to show up without giving prior notice.

There’s another knock on the door, this time slightly louder.

“Chotto matte, kudasai,” Mako calls out. She forces herself out of her warm bed into the cool of the room, and stumbles towards the bathroom. The tap runs a weak stream of water, and she splashes a scant handful of cold water over her face, and runs her fingers through her hair. On her way to the door, she pulls on her navy button-up blouse from yesterday, but otherwise doesn’t bother to change.

Mako opens the door.

It’s Simmons. She has hung up her lab coat, and is wearing a black knit turtleneck, and a tan cardigan patterned with brown leaves. Her hair is down, falling over her shoulders. She smiles as the door opens. “Hello, Mako!” she greets, cheerily. “I was – did I wake you up?”

Mako self-consciously runs her fingers through her hair again. “Good afternoon,” she says, finally.

Simmon’s smile turns sheepish. “Sorry. I should have factored jetlag into the invitation, and realized that you may have wanted to sleep longer. Just, Fitz and I were on our way down to the caf, and I was wondering if you would like to join us?"

Mako can’t recall how long it’s been since she’s had anything to eat. “That sounds quite nice. One moment, please.”

“Oh, take your time.”

Timed changing is not something done through the Jaeger Academy, however it is done through the Academy cadets. The fastest time has regularly gone to two former gymnasts, but Mako’s time still ranks in the eighty-seventh percentile. In fresh clothing, Mako hesitates, then returns to the bathroom to apply a coat of eyeliner, and properly run a brush through her hair.

Simmons blinks when Mako steps into the hallway. “That was fast.”

“I’m hungry,” Mako replies.

She laughs. “As am I. Shall we?”

Fitz is waiting for them at the entrance to the cafeteria. “What took you so long?” he asks. “I’m hungry.”

As they walk through the cafeteria, Mako notes all the faces that turn to watch her. Shatterdomes are close-knit, and any new face draws attention. She recognizes most of the faces, though there are some she does not, and some she expects to see but doesn’t. She gets looks of recognition from most. Aleksis and Sasha both nod at Mako. Yuna, So-yi, and some of the Nova Hyperion crew wave. 

“How have you been here for a day and yet you’re already more popular than us?” Fitz asks.

“Because Mako has been here before.”

“I know Mako has been here before, Simmons, I was making a joke.”

“How long did you spend at Shatterdomes?”

“Some time,” she says, simply.

Simmons leads Mako to what Mako presumes is her and Fitz’s regular table, before she goes to join Fitz in line. They return with three trays amongst them, and Simmons sets one of her two in front of Mako, as she and Fitz sit across from her. They talk, and Mako eats.

Mako isn’t aware of how out of it she is until she hears the clink of her spoon hitting the bottom of the her bowl. She blinks. She isn’t quite sure how she managed to eat an entire bowl of porridge without tasting it, or even being aware of it, but at least she’s starting to feel the energy from it.

Fitz and Simmons have been talking the entire time, and they seem to notice her coming back into herself.

“I have not been able to eat porridge that fast since we first got shipped out here,” Fitz tells her. “I can barely stand the taste of it now. I know it’s a selfish thing, but I miss non-rationed food. Take Simmons for instance. Simmons makes the best sandwiches. Do you know how long it has been since she has been able to make one for me? _Months_.”

"Fitz is just flattering me," Simmons says. "I don't make the best sandwiches."

"Yes she does," Fitz says. "They are the most magical thing you will ever taste. Especially once you've gotten used to rationing."

"I will take your word for it," Mako says, trying to hide a smile.

"No, don't just take my word for it. Jemma, make Mako a sandwich."

"Are you ordering to make a sandwich?" Simmons asks, raising an eyebrow.

Fitz stares at her for a moment. "Oh. No, not like that. Just. Mako should not be denied a sandwich. It was a suggestion. Just a suggestion."

Simmons rolls her eyes.

"What kind of sandwiches do you make?"

“Oh, this and that.”

"She can make any kind," Fitz boasts. "She makes me a proscuitto with buffalo mozzarella with a hint of pesto aioli. It’s the greatest. But she only makes those for me. You can’t have one. She’ll figure out one to make you.”

"Do you like tomatoes in your sandwiches?" Simmons asks. "I have an idea for something that we could get out here…” She thinks it over for a moment. "Oh, that would be wonderful, actually. You would love it." She flushes. "I hope."

"I look forward to it," Mako says.

"When's the next supply run?" Fitz asks.

"When was the last one?"

"If I knew that, Simmons, then I wouldn’t be asking.”

“The last supply run was the twentieth, the next one will be next Monday,” Mako says.

Both look surprised, and impressed.

“How do you know that?” Fitz asks, awed.

Mako knows the supply routes for all eight Shatterdomes. “I have spent some time in Shatterdomes,” she repeats.

“Speaking of,” Fitz says. “I’ve still a large portion of code that needs to be sent to LOCCENT for simulation. What do you say we head back to Simmon’s lab, and look over your proposal?”

“I was thinking we would go to your office, so not to disturb Dr. Simmons’ research.”

Fitz waves a hand. “Oh, no, Simmons is used to me being around. Besides, her lab has a couch.”

“It’s a very comfy couch,” Simmons adds.

They both look so eager. “That works for me.”

 

\-  -

 

Mako calls Tendo at half past seven, knowing he will likely be on his lunch break.

“Mako!” he greets, when he picks up. "How's my favorite girl doing?"

"The last time I spoke with Alison, she has been doing quite well."

Tendo laughs. "Fair point. How's my favorite girl in the eastern hemisphere doing?"

Mako thinks on it for a long time. "Fine," she decides, finally. “I just spent the past six hours talking with Dr. Fitz regarding my proposal.”

“How’d that go?”

“He is very helpful,” she edges.

Tendo makes a sympathetic noise. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Mako repeats. “I would rather be told of the necessary revisions before the fifteenth. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the revisions.”

“What’s on your mind, then?”

Mako hesitates for a moment. "What can you tell me about FitzSimmons?"

"Not much. I met 'em, once, when Marshal first brought them in. They're nice. Fitz's one of the best minds we have. Dr. Gottlieb nearly gushed over him. And Simmon's _the_ best K-Scientists we have."

“They seem… different. Did they really go through the Jaeger Academy?”

“Pretty sure they didn’t. Why d’you ask?”

“They mention an Academy.”

“There are a few around.”

“How did they join the PPDC, then?”

"Word amongst the 'domes is that Marshal poached them them from some spy agency."

"But?" Mako prompts.

"But if they were really poached from spy agency, how could have the Marshal known about them?" A beat. "Unless the Marshal himself has ties to spy agencies. Which wouldn't really surprise me. Tamsin ever tell you about the times they pretended to be James Bond?”

“A few times, yes.”

Tendo huffs a laugh. “She ever tell you about Halloween ‘15? I think she still has the pictures from it too.”

“I will make sure to ask her next time I see her,” Mako replies. Tamsin’s health is failing, but there will be a next time, Mako knows. She clears her throat, and asks, “How are things in Anchorage?”

 

\-  -

 

There’s a hiccup during the simulation, and Fitz shoots Mako an email asking to reschedule, but he makes a point of asking Mako to still join him and Simmons for dinner.

When she sees them, she is surprised to see Fitz in the traditional j-tech khaki coveralls. They are a size too large and covered in grease smears – likely from their original owner. He looks odd, out of place.

Mako had once more slept through breakfast, and only had a light lunch. Fitz and Simmons are once more content to talk amongst themselves as Mako eats. Fitz is hunched in on himself, and there is barely any space between the two of them while they converse in quiet tones. They open up, though, as Mako pushes away her cleared plate. Not as boisterous as yesterday, and the day before, but Mako is drawn into their conversation, and the minutes pass by.

A low hum is all the warning that Mako, Fitz, Simmons and the rest of the occupants of the cafeteria get before the lights slowly dim.

"Oh no," Simmons says.

"Not again," Fitz adds.

Sensei had cautioned Mako to dress warmly during her stay. He had never explicitly discussed the worsening financial situation of the PPDC, but Mako read the official memos and all the lines in between. Quietly, Mako says, "I take it that these are not uncommon occurrences."

"Well, it really depends on your definition of uncommon," Fitz starts. He opens his mouth, but glances around, and seems to reconsider his train of thought. He weakly concludes, "They've been happening."

Simmons stands up, and picks her tray up. "The usual plan, then?" she asks.

Fitz nods. He picks up his tray and stands up.

Simmons turns back to Mako. "Would you like to come back to our room?" she asks. A moment later, she flushes a bright red. "Fitz," she starts, her voice higher and pitchier than normal, "has created a space heater, that does not draw from the power grid of the Shatterdome. It has gotten us through the last few black and brownouts. You're welcome to return to your quarters, of course, if you want to sleep it out yourself, but you are welcome to sleep it out with us." Her eyes widen. "In an entirely platonic sense," she adds, hurriedly. "Fitz and I aren't like that, despite what it seems a majority of the PPDC seems to think.” She lowers her voice. “I'm not quite his type, if you catch my meaning."

"Oi," Fitz says. "It's not like I'm exactly your type either."

"Oh Fitz, how many times do I have to explain–" Simmons starts.

"I don’t think three people would fit in one bed," Mako says, quietly.

Simmons turns back to her. "Oh no, we've shoved our two bunks together. It took quite a bit of maneuvering, but we were perhaps drinking a little, and neither of us care for heights nor the top bunk, and it seemed quite reasonable at the time to just readjust the bunk so it suited our purposes. Even if it included stealing some welding tools.”

“Temporarily borrowing,” Fitz corrects. “We returned them.”

There are thoughts about damages to Shatterdome property, but Mako does not voice any of them. Instead, she says, "I did not bring as many blankets as I should have, to get through a Russian power outage."

Simmons' face lights up, nearly bright enough to light up the dim room. "Excellent!" she says. "If you will just come with us."

“Why are you taking your trays?”

Simmons and Fitz look at each other. “We are finishing our meal,” Fitz says. “Right, Simmons?”

"Yes," Simmons says, voice going high and oddly toned. "In our room. We always finish our meals in our rooms."

Mako doesn't point out that trays are not supposed to leave the cafeteria. (There were poorly-thought out ideas involving trays back in the Mark-One glory days. Mako remembers speculating with Chuck about what exactly that had entailed. By now, Chuck must know, but Mako will not ask him.) She follows them out of the cafeteria.

Everyone is filing out, and Yakimova is posted at the door to the caf, talking in fast-paced Russian to another officer with her. Her eyes narrow when she sees the trays Fitz and Simmons are carrying, but she turns her head and looks the other way.

Fitz and Simmon's room is just down the hall from Simmon’s lab, and it is an absolute mess. Mako finds herself standing in the doorway, staring at it. Laundry is scattered on the floor, papers are scattered on the desks, the bed is not made. Sensei was military even before joining the PPDC, and he had instilled in Mako the necessity of cleaning up after herself.

"Oh, come in, Mako, no need to hesitate," Simmons says, misunderstanding her reluctance.

Mako bows her head, glad she doesn't have to mention that this place is a mess.

"This place is a mess, I am so sorry, I can never get Fitz to pick up his laundry–"

"Hey, don't put this on me," Fitz argues. He sits in the one clearing of the room, next to a machine that looks like a cross between a coffeemaker and a space heater. "You're just as messy as I am."

"I am not _messy_."

"And neither am I. I am just frequently in the midst of doing more important things than cleaning up."

Mako bites her bottom lip, and doesn't comment.

"Tray," Fitz says, holding his hand out to Simmons behind him.

Mako steps into the room, carefully maneuvering around the clothes and papers and engineering bits on the floor. “Is your power source based on composting?" she asks, as she crouches down next to Fitz to get a better look at the machine.

"In part," Fitz says. "Vladivostok does a lot of its own composting, but we sneak out what bits we can. It's mostly just a jump start, see–"

"You two have fun," Simmons interrupts, "I am changing into my pajamas and going to sleep."

Fitz continues to explain the schematics to Mako, going on about his thought process while he was constructing it, other resource problems he ran into while constructing it. "And then Simmons and I got into an argument about… oh, what was it about again, Simmons?" He turns around to look at her.

Mako does the same.

She remembers, then, that Simmons had said she was going to change into her pajamas.

Simmons is in the middle of doing so. She is wearing a pair of pink-and-white flannel sleep pajama bottoms, and she is currently not wearing a shirt – only a bright, cornflower blue bra. "We were not arguing, Fitz," is all she replies.

Mako turns back around to look at the space heater, and tells herself the warmth on her cheeks is from the that.

Fitz turns back to look at Mako. "We were arguing."

"It was a healthy, spirited debate."

"We were arguing," Fitz repeats.

Simmons huffs behind them.

Mako cracks a small smile at Fitz. "Is is possible you are both right?"

"Tends to be the case," Fitz replies. "I'm right more often, though."

At that, Simmons's huff sounds more like a laugh.

"Don't start, Simmons," Fitz warns her.

"Are you two going to stay up much longer, or should I go ahead and start warming the bed up?" Simmons asks.

"I don't know, I could talk shop all night."

"I never would have known."

It's Fitz who makes the affronted noise this time. To Mako, he explains, "Back in the Academy, Simmons and my classes didn't quite match up, her going for biochem, me for engineering, but there was some overlap, and she had to take a few engineering classes. We spent an entire thirty-six hours together in a lab, working on perfecting her design, which we had spent the entire week before hand staying up all hours of the night discussing."

"And what was the result?"

"Magnificent," Simmons says.

Simmons sounds like she's moved, and so Mako turns around, carefully.

The bed has been made, sheets and covers pulled up to the pillows. Simmons – not in a matching pink-and-white flannel shirt – is lying horizontally across the bed. Her head is on her folded arms. "The sheets are cold,” she explains. “If you lie on top of the covers for a few minutes, it warms the sheets. There is nothing worse than cold sheets."

"It's why I always let Simmons go first," Fitz admits.

Simmons levels him a look. Then, she looks back to Mako. "Do you want to borrow a pair of my pajamas? Or head back to your room for your own?"

Mako doubts her normal sleeping attire would keep her as warm as what Simmons might have."Borrowing a pair would be nice."

"Fitz, trade spots with me."

"But it's cold."

"Then get a blanket."

Fitz sighs, and stands up. It's amusing, watching him carefully make his way over to the bed, then watching him and Simmons shuffle around. Fitz ends up rolled in a blanket, and Simmons finally emerges, triumphant.

She's wearing bright pink socks.

It's adorable.

Simmons makes her way over to the dresser in the corner, and pulls open the second drawer down. “Any color or pattern in particular you would prefer, or just what’s warmest? And do you want a pair of socks to go with them?”

“What’s warmest, no socks.” Mako always kicks them off within the first hour asleep.

What’s warmest is a pair of navy flannel pajamas, which Simmons holds out.

"Could you grab me mine?" Fitz asks, voice muffled from the blanket.

"Which ones?" Simmons calls back.

Mako takes the pajamas, and then takes a few steps away from them. She has never particularly minded changing in front of others– she got over that insecurity in the locker room at the Academy. Still, she turns her back, and unbuttons the navy blouse, leaving her in nothing but her undershirt and bra. She is glad for the heater, which means she's not shivering for the first time undressing in Russia. She swaps out for the flannel pajamas, and turns back around.

Fitz has changed into a large, oversized gray t-shirt, and pajama bottoms that Mako can't see.

"Alright, Fitz, would you like to go in first?"

It’s almost choreographed like a dance, the way Fitz rolls off the bed and Simmons holds up the sheets for him, before immediately following him in. They take a moment to settle, shifting to get comfortable, before Simmons looks back at Mako.

“Don’t let her let any cold air in,” Fitz says, watching Mako from the other side of Simmons.

“I won’t, Fitz,” Simmons assures. “And Mako, if you could turn the light off? It’s just a half-step from the bed.”

Mako flips the switch on the battery-operated lantern, steps back to the bed, and quickly slides under the covers.

The sheets have been warmed slightly by Simmons and Fitz lying on top of them, but only where their torsos are. Mako regrets not opting for the socks, even if temporarily. She moves in closer to Simmons, and her arm brushes against a hand. Her eyes adjust to the dark, and she sees the outline of Fitz, looking like he’s on his side, curled around Simmons.

"There’s only ever enough power to last through part of the night. Plus, Simmons is very comfy," Fitz tells Mako, before he closes his eyes, and settles in closer against Simmons.

Simmons lets out a quiet laugh. “So I have been told. And Fitz and I have been told that we are rather tactile. You are welcome to, uh, be tactile with us as well. Or not! Whichever makes you more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable,” Mako replies, quietly, and it’s the last thing she remembers before she falls asleep.

She wakes up hours later, shivering, curled around Simmons. At some point in her sleep she had taken off her flannel shirt, and she wishes she hadn’t. Alternatively, she wishes she could just stay here for the rest of the day. Simmon’s arm is wrapped around Mako’s shoulder, her head leaning against the top of Mako’s. It’s warm, and it’s comfortable.

But Mako has been emailed the lead engineer for the Mark-IIIs, Arvid Inzelbrucken, for the past few weeks. There’s a feature she wants to install during the restoration, and his feedback has lead to design upon redesign, and they are nearing the point of merely fine-tuning. His feedback is always within twelve hours, and his reply to yesterday’s email should be waiting for her.

Her work comes first.

Mako slowly pulls away from Simmons, smiling apologetically when Simmons blinks awake.

“Morning,” Simmons says, sleepily.

“Good morning,” Mako replies.

“Leaving already? Heat’s not back on yet.”

“I have work.”

Simmons frowns.

Mako turns around, and switches out of the flannel pajama bottoms into her cold trousers, pulls on her blouse. She can’t stop shivering.

“Take one of my cardigans,” Simmons tells her, voice still drowsy. “There should be one lying around. It’ll keep you warm.”

Mako looks around, and spots a cardigan half-hanging off one of the desks in the room. Tan with leaves, Mako remembers Simmons wearing it the other day. It’s soft against her fingers, and warm when Mako pulls it on. “Thank you,” Mako says, but when she turns around, she sees that Simmons has fallen back asleep, a smile on her face.

Mako smiles back, briefly, and lets herself out.

 

\-  -

 

And then Mako finds herself in Simmon's lab.

It makes sense, Mako thinks. She does a lot of work with Fitz, and unless he is called away to help with Cherno Alpha's calibration, he spends most of his time in Simmon’s lab, which means Mako does the same.

They sit on the couch in Simmon's lab, which is indeed very comfy. Fitz reads over her modifications, corrects some of her math, the precision of her rounding, everything he sees that become an issue later on. Mako argues some points, but listens, and gives herself room to improve. Every so often, she will make a point that Fitz had overlooked, and Simmons will beam, and congratulate Mako.

It’s enjoyable.

What time she doesn't spend in the lab, she spends around the Shatterdome. Deputy Marshal Sharova bends to tradition, and asks Mako to share dinner with her and some of her officers one evening. Mako doesn't speak much Russian, and finds herself receiving an impromptu lesson on certain key phrases to know. Most of which Sharova later asks that she not repeat around Marshal Pentecost.

However, she repeats them to the Kaidonovskies. They are the only two people in the Shatterdome who do not see her as Marshal Stacker Pentecost's daughter; instead, they see her as Ranger Stacker Pentecost's daughter, and it makes a world in difference with the familiarity and lack of pomp and circumstance they show her. There is still respect, and still affection, and Sasha compliments Mako's bright blue highlights. She asks if Tamsin was the inspiration, and Mako doesn't mind talking about Tamsin with the two pilots who had been her peers.

Yuna and So-yi practice their fencing just as much as they practice with hanbos; and while Mako is evenly matched with both of them in the latter, her fencing skills are very rusty. She can remember the basic stances they have taught her, but she is unable to find the foils to practice on her own time. They are gentle in their teasing, and every few matches Yuna offers to let Mako win.

Sensei emails her, every few days, and she emails back.

Arvid continues replying every twelve hours, going over the pros and cons of the placement of the new feature on the left or the right arm.

Mako works a lot – it’s not as much of a vacation that some other cadets are taking, but as Mako sits on the couch in Simmons’ lab listening to her and Fitz’s friendly and affectionate arguing, she is enjoying herself.

 

\-  -

 

The weekend passes, and Mako is readying for bed when Simmons stops by. “I meant to ask when you were with Fitz earlier, but the supply run is tomorrow. Would you like to come with Fitz and me?"

Mako considers it. She had planned on spending tomorrow double-checking the precision of her calculations, before having Fitz look them over. But there are a few days left in her visit, she can put it off one day. "That would be nice."

Simmons smiles brilliantly. “Excellent! We’ll meet you by the cars?”

 

\-   -

 

 

Simmons and Fitz are easy to see amongst other Shatterdome personnel in the parking lot. They're both wearing the standard-issue black winter coats that blend in with all the other standard-issue black winter coats; however, Simmons is wearing a vibrant blue knit hat that matches Mako's highlights, and a deep orange scarf. Fitz is an orange beanie that matches the color of Simmons’ scarf. His own scarf is striped in purples and reds and oranges, and long enough to be wrapped around his neck twice and still dropping down to his waist.

Simmons sees Mako first, and she waves her over. She's wearing patterned teal mittens.

Mako is smiling to herself as she approaches her and Fitz.

"Is that really what you're wearing?" Simmons asks, looking Mako up and down.

Mako is dressed similarly to the other PPDC members around her; standard-issue black coat, as well as the standard-issue black winter gloves and black fleece beanie. Her only deviation is her black lamb wool scarf, which Sensei gifted her when she was admitted to the Jaeger Academy.

Simmons pulls her knit hat off her head, and thrusts it out to Mako. "Here. This will match you and your outfit much better than me."

Mako takes the hat, reluctantly. "I'm fine with what I'm wearing."

"Have you ever been out in a supply run up here? It's impossible to tell one person apart from another. This way, if we get split up, we can find each other more easily."

Mako switches her black hat for Simmons's blue hat, still warm. She holds out her own black fleece hat to Simmons, but Simmons shakes her head. A moment later, she pulls out another knit hat out of her pocket – this time, it’s a dark pink.

"How many of those do you have?" Mako asks.

Simmons turns towards Fitz. "Seven?”

“I thought you had eight.”

Despite the mittens, Simmons starts counting off her fingers. “Bright blue, raspberry pink, coral, emerald green, plum, royal purple, ivory. That’s seven.”

“What about the really bright yellow one?”

“I gave that to So-yi. She looks far better in it than I.”

“Why do you have so many?” Mako asks.

But then the lead officer calls for attention. Mako has not been on many supply runs, but enough for her to know the general scope of the speech, despite her limited understanding of Russian. Personal items are under no regulation, other than the standard rules of conduct at Shatterdomes. All Shatterdome expenses must be approved at time of purchase by a PPDC officer.

The collective group is shepherded into groups of three or four, and assigned a car and driver. There are mostly supply trucks, some Jeeps, all spraypainted with the PPDC eagle.

Another officer comes towards them, and Fitz greets, “Privyet, Senya.”

“Dobroye utro, Lyova,” he replies, as he climbs into the driver's seat.

They climb into their car, Fitz sitting up front with the driver, Mako following Simmons into the backseat.

"In answer to your earlier question," Simmons says. "Bright colors cheer people up, which with this level of sunlight, is quite important." Her tone is light as she continues, “And I quite like looking stylish.”

“Do you dress Fitz as well?”

Simmons giggles.

“I can manage well enough on my own. Usually. Simmons got me this scarf, though," Fitz adds, turning around in his seat, and holding up the ends of the scarf. "From back when we both went through the Academy together. It's a perfect replica."

"Replica of what?"

Fitz and Simmons share a look. They both look mildly horrified.

"We'll explain later," Simmons says, evenly.

It's only a few minutes down into the city proper, though it runs longer with a parade of trucks. They have to park farther away from the market, but Simmons and Fitz fill the silence. As they get closer to the food vendors, Simmons wraps her arm around Mako's elbow, and starts pulling her along.

The prices are high, perhaps the highest of any Shatterdome port. A loaf of bread alone costs over five hundred rubles. Sensei sends her an allowance, and while Mako has been saving up the money to give back to him, she doesn’t want Simmons to spend so much on a sandwich for her.

“I can pay you back–” Mako starts.

Simmons waves her mitten-clad hand. “I have nothing else to spend money on. Aside from jumpers and scarves for me and Fitz, but we have plenty of those by now.” She purchases the bread, and hands it over to Fitz.

"Why do I have to carry everything?"

"Because," Simmons says, simply.

They exchange a long look that involves them frowning at each other. Fitz finally holds out his hands.  
Simmons hooks her hand into Mako’s arm again, shopping for more and more ingredients. Her conversations with Fitz get more and more one-sided as they make their way down the booths.

Mako finally gives in to the temptation of buying some mochi from a few booths back. She buys enough for all three of them to have two pieces.

As Mako returns, she sees Fitz storming off in the opposite direction.

“Simmons?” Mako asks.

Her expression morphs into a wide, bright smile. “Would you like to accompany me to Eagle’s Nest Hill?”

Mako frowns, but nods. “Sure.” A moment, and she says, “I bought some mochi.”

“Oh, I’ve never had any,” she replies, her tone still falsely bright. “I would love a piece.”

“Not everyone likes it,” Mako warns, as she hands a piece over.

Judging by Simmons, she doesn’t like it. “That’s interesting,” she says, a few bites in. “What is it made of?”

“Rice paste. Do you think Fitz would like it?”

“Difficult to say,” Simmons says, stiffly.

They continue their walk, and Mako waits until Simmons decides on a patch of grass to sit on before she  asks, “What happened with Fitz?”

Simmons sighs, and is quiet for a long minute. "He's homesick," she says, finally. "He doesn't like…. Well, he doesn’t like the cold, for starters. He misses... he misses a lot. I suppose we all do. Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?" Mako asks.

"Tokyo. That's where you grew up, right?"

Mako shakes her head. “I was born and raised down in Tanegashima, in the south of Japan. My family and I were only in Tokyo on a visit."

"Do you miss it there?"

Mako shakes her head again. "I miss my life there, before the war. I miss my parents, before–” There are days when Mako still can’t say name. “But when my parents died… I lost what ties I had to that community."

"Do you miss having a place you could call home?"

"Sometimes," Mako admits. "I have spent a lot of time at the Jaeger Academy, and that feels like home at times. And when I’m not, I am with Sensei. I feel at home with him. It is difficult being this far away from him."

Simmons gives her a sad smile. "I know what you mean, finding home with people you care about. Fitz and I... the only reason I can stand it here is because I'm with him. I miss my mum and dad, certainly, and I wish to return to London some day, and I also want to go back to the Los Angeles Shatterdome and all the friends we made there, but for now, as long as I'm with him, it's easier." A moment, and she adds, "And it's difficult that he is still homesick. That I can't appease it for him as well as he appeases it for me."

"I'm sorry," Mako says.

Simmons gives her elbow a squeeze. "Don't be. It's none of your fault. Besides, I think he likes having you around. We know each other so well, it's good to have someone else around to talk to. We don't have many fans here, as we did back in Los Angeles. It’s difficult."

"It's a difficult situation here. They are all proud of Cherno, they don't like the idea of Cherno being in failing health. They'll all be your biggest fans once Cherno is up and running again."

"But once Cherno is, we're out of here, starting on the Mark-II jaegers that have been slowly falling behind. While you work on the one Mark-III, it seems. Why Gipsy Danger?"

“She was not my first choice,” Mako admits. It's not something has told anyone other than Sensei, and Tendo; but high up on the hill, Vladivostok spread below them, it seems safe to air the truth. "I originally wanted to restore Coyote Tango. But when I suggested it to Sensei... he persuaded me against it. And I figured that Gipsy Danger was the next best option. Everyone wants to just keep building more jaegers, no long likes to think about Oblivion Bay, but with the financial concerns the PPDC is facing… Striker Eureka is looking to be the only Mark-V jaeger. It would be wise to look to alternatives. The damage Gipsy Danger sustained is not so extensive that she cannot be restored.”

“It’s a pity what happened to its pilots, though,” Simmons says, quietly. After a moment, she leans back onto her elbows. “Though it will be good to see it back up and running. The work you’re doing is truly remarkable. Although Fitz is not always kind, when he’s going over your blueprints, he is trying to be constructive.”

"I know," Mako replies. "And it hurts, but I understand. I need the best plans I can have when I present my proposal."

"If you don't mind me asking..." Simmons starts, nervously.

Mako waits for her to continue.

“You are doing _far_ more work than needed for a simple proposal. Most of the work you’re doing, it’s more of an intermediate step. Something that would be done _after_ approval.”

Mako stares out across Amur Bay. “When Marshal Pentecost approves the program, I want there to be no doubt that it was approved on my merit, not on our relationship.”

“I can’t imagine why anyone would be foolish enough to attribute it to nepotism. You really have all the merit to see through this project, and then some.”

Mako feels her cheeks warm at the praise. "Thank you, Simmons."

“Jemma. Call me Jemma.”

“Thank you, Jemma,” Mako says, softly. “I only wish I could compliment your work as much as you do mine.”

“I am not complimenting you so you will feel compelled to do the same. Besides, xenobiology is difficult for some to discuss,” Jemma says, carefully. “Dr. Geizler is the only person I can really talk about my work with,but with the PPDC’s security concerns, and the difficulty accessing a secure line, we don’t get to speak much. There’s recorded videos we are allowed to send on the supply route, but there have been instances when I have answered my own questions the day after I sent it out. It’s so frustrating, and sometimes... “ She lets out an aggravated sigh. “Enough of that,” Jemma says. "I could spend all my time complaining, but I would prefer to speak of something cheerier."

"I like your hats," Mako says.

Jemma beams at her. "Thank you. Just because we're female scientists out here in the cold doesn't mean that we can't look our best."

Mako has never sought out to be stylish, other than Tamsin coaching her through applying eyeliner and lipstick, as well as the art of hair dyeing. These memories are still too personal, and instead she says, "I like your gloves too."

"I was afraid they may seem a bit too kaiju-couture," Jemma says, sitting back up, looking at her mittens. “You don’t think so?”

Mako shakes her head. "I have seen kaiju-couture, and those are not kaiju-couture." She bites her lip, then admits, "I would not be speaking with you if they were."

"I hope if I wear anything that resembles it, you will tell me such before you stop speaking to me."

"I will try," Mako replies, with a hint of a smile. “You are very difficult to talk to.”

Jemma huffs, and leans back down. "I should get you some mittens."

"I prefer gloves."

"Then I should get you some gloves. You need an entire new wardrobe, or at least you do if you're going to be stationed here."

"I am only here for three more days."

"But then you'll be going back to Kodiak island, which is just as cold as it is here. And then you’ll be back to Anchorage for Gipsy Danger’s repairs. But you don't have any cute clothing. No offense,” she hastily adds. “I'll find you something."

Mako matches Jemma’s smile. “I still have your cardigan,” she says, after a few moments.

Jemma frowns. “Which one?”

“Tan, with leaves.”

“Oh, the one with you left with the other morning. You looked good in it, you’re free to keep it. Believe me, I have plenty others.”

A faint breeze stirs, and Jemma pulls her scarf up above her chin, and moves in closer to Mako, their shoulders brushing.

They lapse into a comfortable, enjoyable silence.

 

\-   -

 

The next day, Atticon attacks.

Cherno Alpha is deployed, after considerable argument.

Fitz is summoned to LOCCENT, and Simmon follows.

Atticon heads towards towards Seoul, and Mako goes to the Kwoon room, where Yuna and So-yi are sparring. Hanbos click against each other angrily in quick staccato. Mako has a datapad with intra-PPDC memos and updates, and she reads them out as they appear. Drift initiated and holding strong. Cherno Alpha being wheeled to the main gate. J-Hawks attached. Cherno Alpha airborne.

Atticon doesn't reach land before Cherno Alpha catches up. They fight. Cherno Alpha wins.

Yuna and So-yi wind down their sparring, and stare at each other. Mako wordlessly excuses herself from the Kwoon room.

The official memo sent out reads that Cherno Alpha did not suffer any extensive damage during the engagement. Between the lines, the memo reads that Cherno Alpha still needs repairs, and Mako knows that Fitz will be with LOCCENT and the jaeger techs for the foreseeable future, that she will not see him for the remainder of her visit.

Half past eight, five hours after Atticon’s defeat, Mako gets a vidcall from Sensei.

"Good evening, Mako-san," he greets. His face is pulled, and he looks exhausted.

"Good evening, Sensei," Mako replies.

"Am I interrupting you?"

Mako shakes her head. She had planned to go to dinner, but the emails from Sensei have not been enough, and she is glad to see him, as tired as he may be.

"How are you?" he asks.

"Away from danger," Mako says, because she knows that is the reassurance he needs. "Doing quite well. Daijoubu?"

He nods. "Hai." He rubs a hand over his face. "I will not get much rest for the next three days, but I have a few moments to myself right now, and I am thankful for that."

Mako smiles.

There's a knock at the door. Mako turns around. She doesn't think it would be Sharova, there would be no reason for it to be. "Do you mind if I answer that?" she asks.

"Go ahead," Sensei replies.

Mako gets up, and goes to the door. When she opens it up, she stares in surprise. "Jemma."

"Evening, Mako," she replies, her voice high and bright and false. "I– well, Fitz, really– I mean, he's going to be so busy with fine-tuning, and he isn't great at taking care of himself, so I made him his sandwich, and I won't be getting too much time myself looking at the data I'll be sent, and I suppose there won't be a lot of small moments like this again, and so I thought I would make you your sandwich now."

Mako looks down, and sees that Jemma is indeed holding a sandwich on a tray. "Thank you, Jemma," she says.

"Mako, is that Dr. Simmons?" Sensei asks.

Mako takes a step back into her room. Raising her voice to still be heard, she says, “Yes.”

“Am I interrupting you?”

“Would it be alright if I spoke with her for a moment?”

Mako opens the door up further, and says, “Please, come in.”

“Are you speaking with–?” Jemma starts, before she sees Sensei on the vidscreen. “Oh.”

“Good evening, Dr. Simmons,” Sensei greets her.

“Good evening, Marshal Pentecost,” she says, her voice cool and more detached than normal. She bites her lip. “If it’s evening where you are, Marshal.”

He smiles. “It is.”

“He’s in Sydney,” Mako tells her.

Jemma smiles at Mako. “Here,” she says, handing the sandwich over. She then draws herself up, and asks Sensei, “Is there something you would to speak with me about, Marshal?”

Sensei glances at the sandwich Mako is now holding, a hint of a smile in his expression. But when he turns to look at Jemma, he is once more Marshal Pentecost. “Despite Dr. Geizler’s request that all kaiju samples be sent to him, I am not willing to send them across the ocean to his current station in Panama. Instead, I am sending the remains of Atticon to Vladivostok, for you to examine.”

“You mean you’re–” Jemma starts. 

It means Mako will not see Jemma for the remainder of her trip either.

“You’re sending me the remains of Atticon?” Jemma repeats. “Oh my. That is amazing. I have samples from Hundun and Hidoi, but I’ve become more and more concerned that the elapsed time has started deteriorating the samples, and corrupting my data, but this way, there are so many more experiments I can run. Thank you, Marshal.” She reaches out and gives Mako’s elbow a squeeze. “I have to go prepare my lab, but I’ll see you around. I hope you enjoy the sandwich.”

The sandwich is a grilled mozzarella sandwich with slices of tomato in the middle, and basil pesto spread on both slices of bread. It’s delicious, Mako loves it, and she tries not to be depressed about it.

 

\-   -

 

The morning of the seventeenth, Mako goes to Jemma’s room and lab. Jemma is asleep on the couch, curled up into herself, a fitful expression on her face. Mako spends a quick minute eating breakfast before returning to her quarters. Her few belongings had made packing pass quickly the night before, and she picks up her suitcase, and vacates the empty room.

Mako says her goodbyes to Yuna and So-yi; then to the Kaidonovskies, who point her over to Fitz.

"Break is over," Mako tells him. "I thank you for the work you've done. I know you're busy, and I should not send anything out, but if there is anyway I could get you to do one final read of my final draft, before I go before the PPDC Project Committee, I would appreciate it."

"If I have the time," Fitz says, distantly. He blinks, and looks up from his own blueprints. "You're leaving?"

Mako nods. "The helicopter leaves in fifteen minutes, and my flight is in an hour."

“But you’re leaving on the seventeenth, and it’s still…” Fitz trails off. "Does Jemma know you're leaving?"

"I don't know," Mako says. If Fitz lost track of time, Mako guesses Jemma has too. "I do not believe so. If you could give her my goodbyes, once she wakes up, I would be thankful."

Fitz shakes his head. "Oh no, we're telling her now. C'mon."

"You have work, Dr. Fitz," Mako says, firmly. "As does Dr. Simmons. Your work comes first."

Fitz stops in his place, and frowns. "You're right," he says, after a moment, but he doesn't sound happy about it. He stares at her for a moment longer, then reaches forward and pulls her into a hug. "I'll miss you," he tells her. "You were a very good person to talk shop with. We’ll be back in Los Angeles by May, ideally, but we’ll find a way to get to Sydney, one way or another. I’ll gladly endorse your plans, and act as a expert, if you need to call on one. I hope you enjoy your quarter."

Mako hugs him back. "Thank you, Fitz," she says.

She picks her suitcase back up, and makes her way through the Shatterdome, and up to the helipad. The helicopter is there and waiting, but the J-Hawk attendant is not. Sensei has told her on many occasions that the J-Hawks are some of the most dependable members of the PPDC, and Mako isn’t worried about missing her flight. A bit cold, perhaps, but she just sets her suitcase down, pulls her scarf further up, her hat further down, and waits.

"Mako!"

Mako turns around. "Jemma," she says.

"I can't believe you were going to leave without saying goodbye!" Jemma says, as she finally slows to a stop beside Mako. She throws her arms out to pull Mako into a hug – far tighter than Fitz’s had been. It almost feels like Jemma is clinging to her.

As they pull back, Mako starts, “I didn’t want to interrupt your work–”

“Kaiju DNA takes longer to run through electrophoresis than human DNA, especially since I’m trying to run it long enough so I don’t get the exact same result every time. It’s so aggravating, and I’ve been in my lab for days and barely sleeping, and this is the first time I’ve been outside, and I must look _awful_.”

Mako pulls back, and examines Jemma. She is in her raspberry pink hat, her orange scarf, and plum purple gloves.

"You look very stylish, as always. I will miss it. I will miss _you_ ," Mako says.

Jemma pulls her into another hug. "I'll miss you more," she murmurs into Mako’s hair.

Mako blushes, and only hugs Jemma tighter.

“Hawk’s going up in ninety seconds.”

They pull back, and Jemma is flushing as well.

Mako pulls her hat off, and hands it over. "This is yours, you should probably–"

"Keep it," Jemma says, firmly. "I insist. You'll need it. And also, here, I brought you this."

Mako notices for the first time that Simmons brought a small, lumpy, newspaper-wrapped package with her.

“You’re going to be spending a lot of time in Alaska, and I thought you might like these.”

“Thank you, Jemma,” Mako says softly.

Jemma spends a moment biting her bottom lip, before she grabs Mako’s gloved hands, and tugs her in. Their noses bump together as Jemma presses a quick kiss to Mako’s lips.

Mako isn’t surprised, as she thought she might be. More pleased, than anything else. She stares at Jemma for a few moments, trying to think of the best thing to say. All she manages is, “You’ll be in Sydney?”

Jemma nods, her cheeks a bright pink.

The blades of the helicopter start to whir.

Mako squeezes Jemma’s hands, and gives her a replying kiss, before hurriedly climbing into the cabin.

Jemma takes a few steps back, one hand going to protect her hat from flying off, her other hand waving.

The helicopter climbs up into the air, and Mako watches Jemma until she’s out of sight. When she is, Mako turns her attention to the package on her lap. She runs her fingers under the tape, and opens up the package.

It’s Jemma’s teal mittens.

Mako smiles. She takes off her standard-issue black gloves and slides the mittens on.


End file.
